Winds of Ares: An Apocalypse Thriller by Druga, Jacqueline (most recommended books TXT) 📕

rushing forward. “I was trying to find penicillin in the back.”

“This man needs more than a few pills. His fever is 103, pulse rapid, breathing labored.” The older firefighter, Billy glanced up at him. “We need to transport him now.”

“To a hospital?” I questioned with excitement. “You can get him to a hospital?”

“Not much of one left, but we have medical help in Beckley,” Billy replied. “We have to take him now.”

“Sturgis” I hollered. “Help from Beckley is here!” I dropped down to the floor by Lane. “Sweetie.” I ran my hand down his face. “You’re gonna get some help. This man is going to get you help.” I looked at Billy. “Thank you.”

Billy nodded. “Den!” he called out.

“Yeah.” I heard Den’s voice behind me.

I looked; Den was standing there with Sturgis.

“Radio in, tell the teams we’re headed in with a priority two,” Billy said. “And why in God’s name are you holding a bottle of Vicodin?”

“Her,” he replied. “She had them.”

“I was looking for antibiotics, I swear.”

“I believe you.” Billy reached down to Lane. “Den, help me carry him out to the truck.”

“Can we go with you?” I asked. “Please.”

“There’s no room,” Billy replied. “But we’ll get someone up here ASAP to get you to Beckley. Have that eye looked at.”

I muttered a ‘thank you’ watching gratefully as they lifted Lane. “I’ll be there shortly, Lane,” I said. “I promise you.”

It didn’t dawn on me until they were outside, putting him in their truck, that it registered what Billy had said to me.

“My eye?” I faced Sturgis. “What’s wrong with my eye?”

“You don’t know? You don’t feel that?” Sturgis asked. “It’s pretty bad. Looks like you got hit or something went in it. You don’t feel that?”

I shook my head. “No. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I figured you knew. I didn’t want to make you self-conscious. I just thought you were brave not complaining.”

“Honestly, my whole body is numb.”

“Well, it is gonna hurt like a doozy when that numbness, worry and adrenaline wear down, you’ll be regretting tossing those Vicodin over to the fire guy.”

His words made me chuckle. I was sure he was right about feeling the pain later, but I couldn’t worry about that.

I never would have believed we would have wandered into a rescue from Beckley.

That had to make Sturgis feel better as well. If they had some sort of medical center operating, then Beckley was a lot better off than most of the places I had seen. If that was the case, then chances were good his family was fine.

✽✽✽

It was a little longer than I expected for the other truck to arrive. It was a small fire chief truck. But there was room for both of us and for my bag.

The chief winced with an “Oh, yeah, okay that’s bad.” As he looked at my eye.

I’m thinking, ‘what the hell? How am I not feeling whatever is wrong with me?’

He grabbed a white, instant ice pack, shook it and manipulated it then handed it to me.

It was supposed to be some sort of miracle quick cold, but it didn’t feel cold at all.

I never understood those things. We had them on hand at the soccer games when Carlie would play.

The trip to the Beckley wasn’t long. There was a lot of damage I saw on the way. Not as much as Daniels. A lot of buildings still stood intact, although they were in some way touched by the mega storm.

The temporary medical center was set up in the parking lot of the VA Hospital. A four story brick building with damage on the east part of the structure. It was missing windows and part of the roof.

Tents were erected across the lot; after cars had been moved.

From what I could see when we pulled up, it extended into the front lobby of the building.

Sturgis asked me if I needed him to stay and I told him to find his family, then he could worry about us.

It was a blur. Because I came in with the fire department, I bypassed the check in line.

I was wished luck by the fire chief. And ushered into a golf cart with my bag and three other people.

The driver zipped us across the lot to a large white tent erected by the front entrance.

I walked inside, chairs were set up and partition curtains. I gathered people were being treated on the other side of the partitions. I heard cries, moans and screams.

“Just have a seat,” said a man wearing scrubs and holding a clipboard. “Someone will be with you to treat you folks.”

“I don’t want treated.” I rushed to the man. “I need to find my husband first.”

“Well, I can …” he turned. “Whoa. Wow. That eye is bad.”

“Yeah, but my husband is, too.”

“When was he brought in?”

“Not longer than an hour ago. The fire department brought him. He’s sick. I’m not even sure he gave them his name, Billy, took him.”

“Oh, yeah, Lane, the Walgreens guy.”

“Yes.”

“This way. Doctor Raya is treating him now.”

He led me to the back of the large tent, and as we neared the last area, I could hear a woman’s voice.

“Please take it easy, Lane. We’re almost there,” she spoke soothingly.

Suddenly, Lane coughed violent, like I’d never heard him cough. A mixture of a cough and gag.

“Good luck,” the young man told me, leaving me at the curtain.

“Almost there, help us out. You can do it. I got it,” she told him.

Lane released a long choking gag.

What was going on? It sounded like she was coaching my husband to give birth.

Little did I realize, in sense she was. As I slowly parted the curtain, I saw the older woman with salt and pepper hair leaning over Lane’s face. She wore a mask and it looked like the large tweezers in her hand were in Lane’s mouth.

There was another woman, younger on the other side, trying to hold him down.

Lane’s body jolted and shook as he gagged. Then her arm moved slowly back, and